


this shattered skin

by raspberrylimonade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, because the show won't give us what we deserve, post 6b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrylimonade/pseuds/raspberrylimonade
Summary: Stiles finds out about Lydia's bullet wound.





	this shattered skin

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. It's 1.11 AM and I just spent the last hour and then some writing this short thing because I'm pissed at Teen Wolf for ruining it's last ten episodes.
> 
> This was expanded on a thought I had after this episode (6x17) aired. Seems like no one thought of telling Stiles that his girlfriend and emotional tether got SHOT. I like to think they had a brief argument about whether or not to tell him with Lydia eventually making everyone promise not to tell, but then I thought, what if no one ever told Stiles about what happened, and he finds out only when he sees the bullet wound for himself? I wrote a quick text post about it, but it stuck to me throughout the day, so here we are.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as raspberrylimonade and twitter as stlnskissmartin.

It’s a Thursday when he finds out.

 

The war is over. They have survived, again.

 

By some miracle, they have all managed to get leaves of absence due to personal or family emergencies. Scott and Lydia have their studies deferred until Spring. The younger ones will not return to school, although they will not be graduating early as they had hoped. Malia moped for two days about how she could not get her air ticket refunded, until Peter gave in and bought her another one.

 

Stiles has two weeks off from school and training. He will have to return to Virginia by the end of the following week. However, that does not mean he will not have to do any assignments given out during this time, so Lydia, studious as ever, decided they should have a work-on-Stiles’-case-study date.

 

They are at her house, and the study date has predictably devolved into cuddling on her bed. She is stretched out on her side, Stiles behind her, and they kiss languidly, like they have all the time in the world (they do. She’s already decided to spend the rest of the semester in DC with Stiles.) His has one arm draped over her waist, and props himself up on the other so he can kiss across her jaw then down her neck. She arches and stretches as his mouth roams, sighs breathily, curls her toes. She feels his fingers slide under her T-shirt, and then her shirt is coming off and his warms hands are everywhere and then -

 

He stops.

 

Lydia opens her eyes and lifts her head. She opens her mouth to ask Stiles why he stopped when she sees his face.

 

He is not looking at her, but instead at her body. He is quiet. His face has turned dark. His is uncharacteristically still, but she can see the muscles in his jaw twitching. The calm before a storm.

 

“Stiles…”

 

“When did you get this?” His voice is a low, harsh whisper, a sharp contrast to the feather-light touch of his finger tracing the edge of the scar on her right hip. The mark left by a bullet that faithful night at Scott’s house.

 

He is glaring at the circular scar, and Lydia can see him running through the list of everyone associated with the hunter army while simultaneously crafting the speech he is going to yell at the pack.

 

“You were shot,” he says slowly, “and _no one_ thought I should know?”

 

His hands are trembling on her skin now, his breathing getting heavy, and Lydia calls his name, hoping to calm him down before his thoughts take an even darker turn.

 

“Stiles,” she pleads. “Stiles, look at me, I’m okay, please, Stiles.”

 

Finally, his eyes skim up to hers.

 

“I’m okay,” she says softly, hand reaching up to grasp his arm.

 

“You might not have been,” he replies, shaking his head.

 

“It’s alright,” she assures him. “I’m fine now.”

 

“Lydia something bad happened to you and I wasn’t around to do anything about it!” he exclaims, voice still low, but louder than before. “I didn’t even _know_ \- “

 

He is agitated. Part of her realises she needs to calm him down. The other part feels like he has every right to be angry. She had lied to him. Kept him in the dark. Pushed him away again.

 

She reaches out and grasps his arm, feeling the muscles tensed under his skin. She runs her hand up and down between his shoulder and elbow.

 

“Stiles,” she calls his name again.

 

After a while, she feels his body relax. His expression softens, the anger leaving his system for now.

 

Stiles lets out a huff of breath, and then he leans forward, burying his head in the crook of her shoulder and neck. His arms wrap around her small torso, pulling her towards him. Lydia returns the embrace. One of her hands comes to rest between his shoulder blades, the other on the nape of his neck.

 

“ _Shhh_ ,” she murmurs. “I’m here now.”

 

Stiles takes a deep breath, inhaling her scent. In a few moments, he will kiss the bullet hole and all the other scars littering her body, but for now he’s just going to appreciate the fact that Lydia is  _alive_.


End file.
